


Two of a Kind

by Lexie



Category: Red Star (Graphic Novel)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-24
Updated: 2009-12-24
Packaged: 2017-10-05 05:55:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/38474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lexie/pseuds/Lexie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Goncharova popped over the top of the bar long enough to hurl a heavy beer stein in the general direction of the knot of combatants. She was grinning like a wild thing when she came back down, but she held an enormous bottle of blue-ribbon vodka in hand, which immediately made her a remarkably more suitable companion in Urik's eyes.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Two of a Kind

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bananastasia (anathomical)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anathomical/gifts).



"Yeah," hollered Urik Antares sarcastically, ducking a high-flying chair and rolling across the top of the bar. He hit the floor behind it hard enough that he knew he'd still be feeling the impact in his shoulder in the morning. "This was a _great_ idea, Goncharova!"

Alex Goncharova, on the other hand, was laughing like a maniac. "Wasn't it?" she shouted back, and she popped over the top of the bar long enough to hurl a heavy beer stein in the general direction of the knot of combatants. She was grinning like a wild thing when she came back down, but she held an enormous bottle of blue-ribbon vodka in hand, which immediately made her a remarkably more suitable companion in Urik's eyes.

"This was supposed to be a bar crawl, not a bar brawl," he pointed out.

Alex rolled her eyes cheerfully, slapping the bottle into his outstretched hand. "And here I was about to say that you're not too bad of a sissy for skyfurnace crew. That'll teach me to think compliments."

"I'm not a sissy," Urik said, settling in with his back against the bar. "You're just out of your mind." He took a swig directly from the bottle. His voice a little rougher: "It's a subtle yet important distinction."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Alex sat down beside him, knees drawn up (and spread wide; Urik didn't know her that well, but he'd never gotten the impression that Alex Goncharova held 'being a lady' particularly high in her list of personal priorities) and her forearms resting on them. "I didn't invite you out just to listen to you make cute comments."

A glass came sailing overhead and crashed against the wall several feet to the left, showering their boots with the few shards of glass that managed to bounce that far.

Urik barked a laugh, passing the bottle back. "Why _did_ you invite me out?" he asked. He glanced at her as he said it, a little wary of the answer. It wasn't that Goncharova wasn't attractive -- the situation was, in fact, exactly the opposite -- but Goncharova was just a little too much woman for him. She was a little too much in general in a variety of ways, and while he enjoyed her company (life was always entertaining when she was around, as the sounds of shouting and blows landing from behind them attested), he couldn't imagine going for anything more than cordial sarcasm with her.

Okay, Urik could imagine it, and had. He reasoned to himself that no man wouldn't. Still, he wasn't about to initiate anything.

Alex shot him a funny look, her eyebrows lowered, and then she broke out in laughter. "Urik Antares, you thought I was asking you out!" she crowed.

"I did not!" Urik protested immediately (even though that was exactly what he had been worried about). He snatched the vodka back from her, with great dignity, and Alex carried on with falling about with loud laughter. He gave it a moment, and when she showed no sign of stopping, he said sourly, "Should I be offended?"

She clapped him on the shoulder hard enough that it would have leveled a lesser man, wiping away invisible tears of laughter. "Okay, Fleetie, I invited you out because you and I are about to be in-laws."

"In-laws," Urik repeated, shooting her a bemused, _very_ dubious look just before taking a swig of vodka.

"One way or another," she defended. "Look, you're Marcus's shadow--"

"Brother," he corrected, passing her the bottle with more force than was strictly necessary.

"And Maya's my best friend, and those two loonies are getting married tomorrow. And _if_ we manage to pull this off and all get assigned to the same 'furnace -- we're going to be spending a hell of a lot of time together."

"So you invited me out to get my ass kicked," Urik said dryly.

"I invited you out for a drink," Alex told him, and, with her eyebrows cocked sardonically, she offered him the bottle. He gave an equally sardonic half-gracious tip of his hand as he took it. Alex continued, "I'm the closest thing to family that that crazy witch has got."

"If this is a 'your brother had better not hurt Maya' conversation, I think we're a little late for that."

Alex snorted, shaking her head. "Maya's a big girl. Your family's about to marry mine. Maybe I was wrong, but I got the feeling alcohol was traditional. That's all."

"No, you were right." He jerked a thumb over his shoulder in the general direction of the chaos behind them. "The fights are the less traditional part."

"Icing on the cake," said Goncharova. "Happy damn wedding."

Urik rapped his knuckle against the bottle in her hand, in the closest thing possible to a toast. "Are you going to embarrass Maya with your speech?"

"Please," Alex said scornfully. "Of course I am." She passed the bottle back. "You?"

"So many childhood memories, so little time." Urik flashed the grin of a pain-in-the-ass older brother, and Alex saluted him with two lazy fingers.

When an off-duty infantryman came sailing over the bar and crashed down practically (but not quite) on top of them not four seconds later, Urik and Alex exchanged a look. "Got his legs?" she asked, rising onto her knees.

"Yes ma'am," Urik drawled, and with a heave, they hurled the struggling fighter back into the fray.


End file.
